SPN FIC - Happy Feet II
They're pretty much alone now. The Leviathans are out there, bent on taking over the world, with only the remains of Team Free Will to oppose them. And that's a dirty job. A mind-crushing job.
And sometimes, you need a break.
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 785 words
HAPPY FEET II
By Carol Davis
"We could."
"We could also hop a cargo ship bound for Hong Kong. Doesn't mean we're gonna. Doesn't mean we ought to."
"Dean."
"Drop it, Sam. Just drop it."
"It's four bucks, man. Eight for the two of us. We can spare it."
Then Sam stopped walking. Stopped dead in his tracks, halfway to the car. Stood there in the middle of the sidewalk the way he had when they were kids, and Dad had issued orders that didn't suit Sam's fancy.
"You're gonna do this now?" Dean demanded. "Seriously, you're gonna do this now? Get your dumb ass in the car so we can get out of here."
"It's been almost three months, Dean."
"You know what? I'm aware."
"We've been hiding out for three months. Half the time, no running water, no electricity, no real beds. It sucks, man. Our lives have gone from dismal to shitty, and if there's a light at the end of this tunnel, I'm not seeing it."
"Get in the car."
"No," Sam said.
"You want me to leave your ass? 'Cause we've played that song before, Sam, and if you'll recall, I had no problem with driving away."
Dean took a step toward the car.
Sam didn't.
"God dammit, Sam. Could you NOT -"
Sam didn't move. Halfway between the coffee shop where they'd gulped down a cheap and mostly tasteless lunch, he stood with his arms folded across his chest, wearing that same damn expression Dean had been looking at since they were kids. Which left Dean with exactly two options: he could leave Sam there and drive away, or he could attempt to drag Sam to the car.
For a moment, he considered a third option.
Gunfire, though, would likely draw the cops.
"All I'm saying," Sam told him in a remarkably non-bitchy tone, "is that we could use a little bit of distraction."
"I don't want to be distracted. I want to focus."
"Which has gotten you where, exactly?"
Like he needed to be reminded of that. Of anything: losing Bobby, being driven underground, walking around helpless while the damn Leviathans took over the world. What it was those freaks were building, Dean had no idea - no one had any idea - but letting them just go ahead and do it…
He turned his back on his brother and stalked the rest of the way to the car.
"Dean."
He hadn't made it into the driver's seat. Didn't have the energy, really, to drive the car anywhere, because there wasn't a single place in the entire damn country that seemed like a destination any more. He stood alongside the battered, rusty Skylark, his right hand resting on the door handle, staring off at nothing, and didn't react when Sam came up to stand close by.
Sam nodded at the brick building across the street, a building that had likely been there a hundred years or more. Like everything in this town - except maybe the tiny, blockish bank building down where the road forked off toward the interstate - it looked like it had been here before there was a town. Chances were it'd still be here long after the people were gone.
It was a movie theater.
A freakin' movie theater.
"Two hours," Sam said. "We'll get some popcorn. Sit in the dark for a while."
"It's a kid movie, Sam."
"It's the only screen in town. It's this or nothing. Besides - you liked the first one. As I remember it, you loved the first one. In spite of your not being five."
There was that; there was definitely that. Sam had spent a considerable amount of time mocking him for liking the first one - but…hell. It had some great characters. Lovelace, with that plastic thing stuck around his neck. The Amigos. That was some good stuff. Even if you weren't five.
"They're gonna think we're freaks. Going in there without kids."
"That didn't worry you the last time."
"Place is about a thousand years old. Seats are probably lumpy."
"It's got heat. And functioning rest rooms. Lumpy seats? All part of the experience."
Dean didn't respond; instead, he stood gazing at the old theater, thinking of dozens just like it, of carefully saved dollar bills handed over to a ticket seller so he and Sam could spend a couple of hours acting like real kids. Popcorn, candy, sodas, their feet up on the seats, yelling out commentary on things they liked or didn't like. A couple of hours off, sometimes with Dad waiting for them when it was over, sometimes not.
When Dean finally turned to look at his brother, Sam smiled at him and asked, "So? You game?"
"Yeah," Dean said. "What the hell."
* * * * *
And sometimes, you need a break.
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 785 words
HAPPY FEET II
By Carol Davis
"We could."
"We could also hop a cargo ship bound for Hong Kong. Doesn't mean we're gonna. Doesn't mean we ought to."
"Dean."
"Drop it, Sam. Just drop it."
"It's four bucks, man. Eight for the two of us. We can spare it."
Then Sam stopped walking. Stopped dead in his tracks, halfway to the car. Stood there in the middle of the sidewalk the way he had when they were kids, and Dad had issued orders that didn't suit Sam's fancy.
"You're gonna do this now?" Dean demanded. "Seriously, you're gonna do this now? Get your dumb ass in the car so we can get out of here."
"It's been almost three months, Dean."
"You know what? I'm aware."
"We've been hiding out for three months. Half the time, no running water, no electricity, no real beds. It sucks, man. Our lives have gone from dismal to shitty, and if there's a light at the end of this tunnel, I'm not seeing it."
"Get in the car."
"No," Sam said.
"You want me to leave your ass? 'Cause we've played that song before, Sam, and if you'll recall, I had no problem with driving away."
Dean took a step toward the car.
Sam didn't.
"God dammit, Sam. Could you NOT -"
Sam didn't move. Halfway between the coffee shop where they'd gulped down a cheap and mostly tasteless lunch, he stood with his arms folded across his chest, wearing that same damn expression Dean had been looking at since they were kids. Which left Dean with exactly two options: he could leave Sam there and drive away, or he could attempt to drag Sam to the car.
For a moment, he considered a third option.
Gunfire, though, would likely draw the cops.
"All I'm saying," Sam told him in a remarkably non-bitchy tone, "is that we could use a little bit of distraction."
"I don't want to be distracted. I want to focus."
"Which has gotten you where, exactly?"
Like he needed to be reminded of that. Of anything: losing Bobby, being driven underground, walking around helpless while the damn Leviathans took over the world. What it was those freaks were building, Dean had no idea - no one had any idea - but letting them just go ahead and do it…
He turned his back on his brother and stalked the rest of the way to the car.
"Dean."
He hadn't made it into the driver's seat. Didn't have the energy, really, to drive the car anywhere, because there wasn't a single place in the entire damn country that seemed like a destination any more. He stood alongside the battered, rusty Skylark, his right hand resting on the door handle, staring off at nothing, and didn't react when Sam came up to stand close by.
Sam nodded at the brick building across the street, a building that had likely been there a hundred years or more. Like everything in this town - except maybe the tiny, blockish bank building down where the road forked off toward the interstate - it looked like it had been here before there was a town. Chances were it'd still be here long after the people were gone.
It was a movie theater.
A freakin' movie theater.
"Two hours," Sam said. "We'll get some popcorn. Sit in the dark for a while."
"It's a kid movie, Sam."
"It's the only screen in town. It's this or nothing. Besides - you liked the first one. As I remember it, you loved the first one. In spite of your not being five."
There was that; there was definitely that. Sam had spent a considerable amount of time mocking him for liking the first one - but…hell. It had some great characters. Lovelace, with that plastic thing stuck around his neck. The Amigos. That was some good stuff. Even if you weren't five.
"They're gonna think we're freaks. Going in there without kids."
"That didn't worry you the last time."
"Place is about a thousand years old. Seats are probably lumpy."
"It's got heat. And functioning rest rooms. Lumpy seats? All part of the experience."
Dean didn't respond; instead, he stood gazing at the old theater, thinking of dozens just like it, of carefully saved dollar bills handed over to a ticket seller so he and Sam could spend a couple of hours acting like real kids. Popcorn, candy, sodas, their feet up on the seats, yelling out commentary on things they liked or didn't like. A couple of hours off, sometimes with Dad waiting for them when it was over, sometimes not.
When Dean finally turned to look at his brother, Sam smiled at him and asked, "So? You game?"
"Yeah," Dean said. "What the hell."
* * * * *